


We Were Born to Try

by ChiwiTheKiwi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brother-Sister Relationships, Don’t copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Is Alive, Everyone Loves Peter Parker, Family Dynamics, Family Fluff, Found Family, Funeral? What funeral I only remember overjoyed reunion hugs, Gen, Nightmares, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Set three weeks after Endgame, Tony Stark survived the battle and recovered in Wakanda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 17:12:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19772761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChiwiTheKiwi/pseuds/ChiwiTheKiwi
Summary: "You're scared of the dark?""Yeah," she replies, her hands picking at some of the stray fluff on the couch."That's okay. You know, I get scared of the dark sometimes too."Morgan's eyes widen in an expression of that pure curiosity that only kids seem capable of pulling off. She almost imperceptibly leans forward. "Really?" Peter hums in confirmation with a nod. He can't help but think back to hard concrete, crushing weight; wetness dropping from the tip of his nose as his voice echoes among rubble.(AKA the one where Morgan has a bad dream and Peter is a master of right-time-right-place situations.)





	We Were Born to Try

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 3-4AM on a Thursday night with a chest infection. It can barely even be said that this is proofread for all the sleep I'm running on at the time of posting this. Nevertheless, I'm oddly happy with how this turned out. 
> 
> I do not have a child, nor do I work with them, so maybe Morgan is a bit intelligent for her age. I'm just going to chalk it up to the fact that she has a genius-level father and a CEO for a mother. She still doesn't understand deeper meaning but I love her and I really hope we one day get to see Peter interacting with her. 
> 
> (Title from the song Nine by Sleeping At Last.)  
> Anyway — enjoy!

Peter's alone in the living room of the lake house. He can only assume the others were asleep by now, the sun having long set. Realistically, he should also be resting, but his mind was currently in the middle of a fifty mile marathon. He'd tossed and turned in his guest bed for well over an hour before finally giving up and leaving to settle down on the couch. Since then, he hasn't done much aside from stare blankly at the moonlit sky through the large glass sliding door on the other side of the coffee table. His thoughts haven't broken pace throughout the night, darting from one subject to another without any sign of stopping.

It's only been three weeks since the battle. Three weeks since he returned after a five year interval and witnessed his mentor just barely survive using the infinity stones. A lot has happened over the past while, to the point where it left his mind in the dust somewhere along the way. However, now it seems he's finally processing in the lapse of calm that has overtaken all else. With the world having to readapt to the appearance of the lost population, organisations have been rushed to fix the (once again) destabilised economy and social structure. Several of the Avengers have stepped down after all their years of service, which involved Falcon taking on Captain America's shield when the man returned without the stones and a satisfied smile just seconds after his departure into time. Tony has received a temporary metal prosthetic from Princess Shuri herself while he develops a more synthetic version, all the while insisting on Peter's assistance in its creation. Tony was released from Wakanda's medical facility just three days ago, deemed fit enough with the extensive healing capabilities of the nation to let his body handle the rest in his own home. Tony has a _child_ now — Morgan — he had discovered. A small, bright girl who rivals Peter's own energy, and he can quite literally bounce off the walls. 

And it's this very same girl who stumbles into the room, gaining his attention the moment he hears the soft footfalls make their way down the wooden stairs. 

When he looks over to her, what he sees is beyond all expectation. Tears stream down her cheeks, and her body jolts in place each time a sob comes forth. Distress is visible in every part of her body. His mind, for the first time in what has probably been hours, falls deathly quiet at the image.

"Pete?" The name comes out on the waves of another sob, snapping Peter back into himself. He springs from the couch cushions and rushes to her, gently sweeping her up in his arms so that her head is buried beneath his chin and his arms support her weight and back. He whispers calming words to her as she buries her tear-stained face into his shirt. 

"It's alright, you're okay. I've got you," he reassures, rubbing his hand soothingly over her back. He returns to the couch, gingerly seating himself so that Morgan is settled in his lap, arms keeping her close as he instinctively rocks them both slightly in each direction. "I'm here, it's okay now."

He keeps it up until her sobs lessen into sniffles, and her hands don't fist the fabric of his shirt as hard. By the time she falls almost completely silent, he's gently running his hand over her hair. 

"Are you feeling better now?" A nod. "That's good. Did you have a nightmare?" Another nod. Peter's heart swells in empathetic concern. "I have those sometimes too. Do you have them often?" There's a small pause, and then a shake of her head, her nose rubbing against his chest. "That's good too. Do you want to tell me what happened in it? It helps to talk about them," he adds, highly aware of his hypocrisy. 

There's another moment's pause, and Peter thinks he's done something wrong — he's not exactly had much personal experience with kids, he's always in the suit when interacting with them — then Morgan is pulling herself back so she can look up at him. Her eyes, puffy and red-rimmed as they are, seem all too intelligent for someone so young, and— God,those are definitely Tony's eyes aren't they? The rich brown is almost a direct reflection of her father's. There's no doubt that this girl has got some of that intellect that both of her parents showcase on the daily. 

"I was alone and it was dark, and then when I woke up, my room was dark. I got scared so I was going to mommy and daddy but I saw the light on here," she finishes, eyes having not left his. 

He moves to set the girl on the cushions beside him, bringing up a leg so that he can face her more fully. "You're scared of the dark?" 

"Yeah," she replies, her hands picking at some of the stray fluff on the couch.

"That's okay. You know, I get scared of the dark sometimes too."

Morgan's eyes widen in an expression of that pure curiosity that only kids seem capable of pulling off. She almost imperceptibly leans forward. "Really?" Peter hums in confirmation with a nod. He can't help but think back to hard concrete, crushing weight; wetness dropping from the tip of his nose as his voice echoes among rubble. "Why?"

He's careful to pick his words carefully, not wanting to plant fears that don't already exist in the girl's head. "I get scared because I think there might be something… _mean_ , waiting for me in the dark." At this, the girl gasps softly with an almost surprised expression, confirming that she is of a similar state. "But I know the mean things can't get me. They definitely can't get _you_. Do you know how I know that?" he asks, tilting his head with a small smile. It grows slightly wider when the girl shakes her head. "Because I know your mom and dad would never let mean things near you. And I won't either. I can't let toe-tickling monsters take my job!" He emphasises this with a light jab at the bottom of Morgan's foot, which draws on a surprised giggle from the girl. She makes an attempt to hide her feet from him as he playfully begins to raise his hands, as if for a full attack, before instead dropping them and standing from the couch with a chuckle. 

"We need to try and get you back to sleep, okay? I'll carry you up." She eagerly stands up on the cushions before raising her arms so he can lift her into his hold by her armpits. Her arms slip around his neck before she rests her head upon his shoulder. When she's safely and comfortably settled in his arms, he makes his way to the staircase and up to the second floor. The door to the girl's room is partly open, and with a nudge of his foot, it gives him enough room to maneuver the two of them inside. He kicks the door back again, making sure to leave a crack so as to let some of the light in. Within three strides he's setting her on the bed, helping her pull the duvet out from under her and over her body as she slides down into the pillows. 

"Do you want me to stay with you until you fall asleep?" he asks, already knowing the answer. When the nod follows, he climbs over to the other side of the small child-sized bed and slides into a half-sitting position against the headboard, remaining over the top of the sheets. He watches with a smile that edges on tired as Morgan rolls over to face him. He subconsciously resumes running his hand through her hair, noting how natural the action feels, and wondering just how it is this girl has got him wrapped around her finger so quickly. It remains silent for some time, though Peter knows she isn't asleep due to the rate of her breathing. He considers the possibility that she might still be scared, until she speaks up.

"Daddy said you went away." Her voice is quiet, and it stirs a dull, aching sadness in him. He only hums in confirmation, even if she hadn't meant it as a question. "He talked about you. I saw you in the picture. He was really sad you went away." 

Peter tries not to dwell on the fact that he caused the man to be sad, or that he kept a picture of him. "But your daddy and all his friends brought me and everyone else back," he says, more as a reassurance to himself than anything.

"Yeah," comes her reply, before silence briefly overtakes them again. "I'm glad they did. I like you."

Maybe it's the fact that exhaustion is beginning to weigh heavily on his eyelids, or maybe it's how the stress of the prior weeks have slowly knocked away at any and all remaining stability, but at that, tears rapidly begin to flood his vision. "I'm glad they did too," he pushes out, forcing back the emotion so as not to potentially upset her. However, he lets a genuine, grateful smile slip by. "I'm also glad I get to know you, Morgan."

The girl presses her face into his side, leading to Peter wrapping an arm around her back, holding her close as he sinks further down against the headboard. It's as the girl's breathing finally levels out and his own eyelids have fallen completely shut that he finally notices the new yet familiar noise of metal flexing and retracting with minute movements just beyond the door. Only moments later, the sound comes closer, and a warm, fluffy material is tossed over him. Peter sighs as he only sinks further into the mattress at the comforting weight. 

In his final moments of wakefulness, the only thought drifting through his mind is _family_. 

He barely registers the feather-light pressure against his forehead before his awareness completely lets go and sleep takes its place. 

* * *

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**Author's Note:**

> And then nothing bad ever happened to Morgan Stark. No harm came down on her and she lives happily with her parents, brother, and extended family of many self-asserted cousins, aunts and uncles. She gets all the cheeseburgers she wants and sleeps peacefully. Sorry, I don't make the rules y'all. 
> 
> My Tumblr: [chiwithekiwi](https://chiwithekiwi.tumblr.com/)


End file.
